Onslaught
by Ciya
Summary: <html><head></head>Crap hits the fan for the Winchester brothers while they are investigating a possible hunt.</html>
1. Chapter 1

_Damn plot sheep wouldn't let this go. Why 'plot sheep'? Well why should plot bunnies have all the fun plus they don't fly around, unlike plot bats._

**Onslaught**

"Dean did you find anyth...," Sam's voice trailed off at the dazed look on his older brother's face as he stood in the doorway of their hotel room. "Dean?" He walked over and grabbed his brother's arm.

Water dripped off Dean's soaking wet clothes. "Sam, I.."

The younger Winchester pulled Dean fully into the room and shoved the door shut. "Dean are you alright?" Worried, he dipped his head down to look his brother in the eye. Dean was as white as a sheet and about as coherent, seeing his stalwart brother so affected by a milk run recon unnerved Sam. He pulled then pushed the older man closer to and down onto the nearest bed. Kneeling on one knee he looked up into green eyes that wouldn't meet his own. "Talk to me man. What happened?"

He closed his eyes, "Sam, there was…I saw...it's…" Dean shook his head and jerked off his wet jacket.

"You saw what, Dean?"

Desperately grabbing his brother's arms Dean shuddered with barely contained emotion. Fear and concern had Sam gripping Dean's arms back. An evil grin broke out across his brother's face and before Sam could react he found himself slammed against the wall between the beds. His head bounced as he was slammed against the wall twice more. The bedside lamp broke into large shards under the onslaught and the edge of the bedside table bit painfully into the back of Sam's calves. "Dean! What the hell?"

Dean then threw the younger man over the bed to his right, Sam's body crashed onto the dining table which tipped over spilling Sam and everything else onto the floor. He tried to get up but his legs tangled with the computer's power cord and he was left to kick his way backwards away from his advancing brother. Sam wiped blood from under his nose and shouted, "CHRISTO!"

Dean laughed, "not a demon Sammy." He reached down to yank the younger man up at the same time as Sam kicked out with both legs, sending the older Winchester into a backwards somersault.

Sam scrambled up using the wall for leverage, "you're not my brother." Not wanting to get trapped in a corner, he edged around the overturned table and out into the larger main area.

"SON OF A BITCH!" Dean yelled getting back up. "I was just going to play with you bit Sammy, but now," he bent down and grabbed a broken chair leg, "I'm gonna fuck you up bad." He swung the chair leg like a bat the broken end barely missing the younger Winchester's face. As Dean was about to reverse his swing, Sam kicked him in the stomach then stepped in and slammed his fist into his face. He was able to strike one more time before getting hit in his own stomach and struck across the back of his left shoulder with the chair leg.

Sucking in a hiss of pain, he opened his eyes in time to grab hold of the chair leg and push it away just as the broken end was about to skewer him in the neck; holding tight he twisted the piece of wood until Dean let go. Sam grabbed the man's forearm intent on twisting it up behind his back when the skin slid off in a bloody sheet in his hand. Sam jumped back shaking his hand vigorously, the squishy mess dropping to the floor. "Shapeshifter," Sam muttered under his breath looking back at his 'brother'. "What've you done with Dean?" he demanded.

"I **am** Dean," the shifter laughed, "new and improved." He launched another assault against the younger man. Using a football move that a younger Dean had loved to use against his smaller brother, the shifter threw them back into the long dresser set against the far wall. Sam's head smacked against the mirror, cracking it, bouncing off the mirror they fell onto the unforgiving hard edge of the dresser than landed in a heap on the ground. Being on the bottom, Sam took the brunt of the collision and fall, so as the shifter rolled away with only slight aches and pains; Sam laid in a groggy, bleeding heap. Arms and legs uncoordinatedly flopped about as Sam's scrambled mind tried to decide between fighting, fleeing or passing out.

The shifter grinned maliciously as he pulled Sam away from the dresser, leaving a smear of blood on the carpet from the gash on the back of Sam's head. Barely able to open his eyes, Sam groaned when something grabbed his hair and yanked back his head. Sam saw Dean looking down at him with an expression of disgust. "I can't believe I've held out this long Sammy," the shifter said as he ran the point of a razor sharp knife, snagged from the open weapons duffle, along the younger man's neck, drawing blood. "But I've had a revelation Sammy, everything bad that's happened in my life, to our parents, can be traced back to you. Well no more little brother. From now on it's just me, my baby and the open road," the shifter shrugged, cocking his head, "and possibly your giant, decomposing head in a box…in the backseat." The shifter smiled and tapped the knife blade on the tip of Sam's nose, "or the trunk. I'm still debating…backseat or trunk, backseat or trunk…hmm. Do you have a preference?"

Sam tried to grab the knife but the pain in his head and the double vision made it difficult to focus. "No…don't…" Pain burst through his abdomen, Sam's scream caught in his throat, his back arched and his feet kicked as he tried to escape the fire in his gut. His uncoordinated slapping of the shifter earned him a hard backhand to the face. Letting out a grunt, his arms flopped back to the ground and he could barely see the bloody knife blade being held up to his face. With the loud roaring in his ears he didn't hear the muffled screaming of his name nor the sound of the motel room's door being violently kicked open. He rolled onto his side curling into a ball, his arms wrapped tightly around his middle as a fight ensued around him.


	2. Chapter 2

_Bwahahahahahahahahaha! I like being evil to Winchesters. ;-)_

**Onslaught - Chapter 2**

Dean shivered in his wet t-shirt and jeans. Something had knocked him out; stripping him of his over-shirt, jacket, boots, wallet and cell phone. He could almost believe this was the act of a spirit, except it had also driven off in the Impala leaving him not at the warehouse he'd been checking out but in a field on the other side of town. He felt in his pocket for the motel key which, of course, was also gone. Whatever it was it's definitely corporeal and it knew where he was staying. Worry wormed its way through his gut and he threw what little money he had at the cab driver…who'd been telling him over and over again how lucky he was that he'd stopped to pick him up in the first place…and was out before the vehicle had completely stopped. Ignoring the cabby's angry shout, Dean ran through the pelting rain to the motel room, a quick glance at the window brought him to a breathless halt. Through a gap in the curtains he saw someone stabbing his kid brother. "SAMMY!" He kicked the door open without another thought.

The shifter jumped up from taunting his downed prey to facing his prey's pissed off older sibling. "Ready for round two I see," the shifter smirked, waving the bloody knife. Seeing his brother's blood drip off the knife, Dean roared and charged the thing wearing his face. The fight was brutal - the older Winchester used his shoulder to shove the shifter back into the wall, punched it twice in the face then proceeded to beat the hand holding the knife repeatedly against the sharp edge of the dresser until a wrist bone snapped, Dean snarled at the howl the creature let out. The shifter retaliated by shoving a knee into Dean's crotch then punching him when he let go with a pained gasp. His eyes watering and trying not to throw up, Dean kicked out from his fetal position striking the shifter's broken wrist when it reached out for the knife; then kicked it in the face, grimacing at the sickening crunch the shifter's nose made under his foot.

Dean got to his feet as fast as the throbbing between his legs allowed. Blood flowed from the shifter's broken nose, a feral growl sounded in its throat as it glared at Dean's hunched over form. Moving faster than it really should have been able to, the shifter grabbed one of the broken lamp shards and rushed the hunter. It smashed Dean into the bathroom door jam and slammed the shard deep into its opponent's left shoulder. Twisting the shard, the shifter laughed manically at Dean's scream.

Blinded with pain, Dean's right hand swept across the bathroom counter knocking over empty mugs before hitting the coffeemaker, sending up the scent of freshly brewed coffee. Ignoring the burning sensation on his hand as he grabbed the hot glass carafe, he swung it at the back of his doppelganger's head, splattering hot coffee and shards of glass down its back. The shifter's high pitched shriek made the few scalding splatters of coffee that hit Dean seem inconsequential. Letting his green-eyed twin go, the shifter twirled, trying desperately to get the coffee soaked shirts off its scalded neck and back.

"FREEZE! HANDS IN THE AIR!" a deep baritone voice commanded from the still open motel room door.

Looking up from the floor, his legs having given out from under him, Dean saw a dark skinned man in a dark uniform pointing a gun in his and the shifter's direction. Completely off his rocker the shifter screamed and charged the police officer - who emptied his weapon into the shifter's chest. The shifter crashed into the officer and they fell out of the doorway onto the sidewalk. Officer Aeryn Parker rushed over and pulled her partner out from under the twitching body. The first officer kept his weapon trained on the now still body, calling for backup and an ambulance while his partner cautiously entered the motel room. Seeing a figure hunched over another still form on the floor Parker quickly brought up her gun. "Police! Put your hands out where I can see them!"

After the shifter's dramatic exit, Dean climbed to his feet and staggered over to his brother, barely holding in a pain filled yell when he crashed to his knees, the motion causing the shard to shift in his shoulder. "Sammy?" Dean rolled the younger man onto his back, his eyes going wide at the size of the red puddle under Sam, "shit, shit, shit…Sam?" Blood loss not fear, he told himself, caused his hand to shake as he checked for a pulse. "SAM!" He moved the kid's shirts out of the way to check the damage, "oh god," he swallowed the rising bile in his throat.

Sam's breath came in quick gasps as he slowly rolled his head towards his brother's voice, his eyes barely opened. "D'n? Not…" Sam mumbled, his eyes closing and his gasping breaths becoming further and further apart.

Dean ignored the female cop yelling at him, focusing all of his attention on his unconscious kid brother. "Don't you dare die on me man, don't you dare." He grabbed the comforter off the nearest bed and pressed it down with his good arm onto Sam's bleeding wounds.

"I said - put your hands up!"

He moved so the cop could see Sam, "my brother's going to die if I don't get this bleeding stopped, so either help me or stay out of the way."

"I need to see your other hand." Dean shifted slightly so the shard in his shoulder was visible. "Fine, but no quick movements," Parker warned, quickly searching the room while keeping Dean and Sam in her line of sight. "What went on here? Which one of you hurt him - you or your twin?" Dean snorted, turning away from her. "Ralston what's the ETA on backup and the ambulance?" Not getting an answer she swore under her breath, "damnit. What is it with men ignoring me tonight?" she glanced behind her, "Ralston. RALSTON!"

Officer Jon Ralston squatted down and placed two fingers on the man's throat, feeling for a pulse. Finding none, he quickly frisked the body for weapons then rolled the man slightly to the side to see if any weapons were lying underneath him. He fell backwards with a wordless cry when the corpse's eyes popped open and its head turned towards him. Ralston's eyes opened wider and his mouth gaped as the corpse rose up, its mouth contorting into an horrible grimace before it grabbed him by the throat and pulled him off the ground.

Choked gasps fell from Ralston's lips, his feet kicked out and he brought his gun to bear on the figure before him. The green-eyed corpse…thing twisted the gun from his grasp and shook him like a rag doll. The feeling of something slimy and viscous on his fingers didn't register in Ralston's brain as he clawed at the hand around his throat, darkness edged his vision. Five loud reports sounded and he fell, landing hard on the concrete; coughing and gasping his hands protectively covered his abused throat.

Parker watched the man stumble back from the force of the bullets hitting him. He dropped her partner and turned towards her, the look in his green eyes chilled her to the bone. What he did next would haunt her dreams for years to come; his hands reached up and peeled the skin from his face then they dug under his scalp and forced the hair off his head in one disgusting sheet, the mess dropping to the ground. Parker bent over and vomited her dinner at the same time as red and blue flashing lights appeared at the entrance to the motel's parking lot. When she looked back up the man had disappeared into the darkness of the surrounding forest.

"Fucking shapeshifters."

She turned slowly, her mouth gaping open in shock, "wha…what did you say?"

Dean had sat down next to Sam, awkwardly pulling his brother's head and shoulders onto his lap. "God-damn, fucking shapeshifters." There were tears in his eyes and Parker couldn't tell if the younger man was still breathing.

"Shape…shifters? They don't exist, they're a myth…" she turned back to the open doorway, flashing lights illuminating the parking lot, "he..he pulled his skin off…Grandpa was telling the truth? Oh god." Before Parker could continue freaking out the room was filled to bursting with EMTs and police officers. Controlled chaos reigned as the Winchesters and Officer Ralston were loaded onto stretchers and trundled into waiting ambulances, motel guests milled about waiting to be interviewed and CSIs chomped at the bit to start processing the room and parking lot.

During the day, unending questions and hand cramping paperwork kept Aeryn Parker's mind occupied, night time though was a different animal altogether. She spent too little time sleeping and too much time on-line researching her grandfather's double homicide conviction with the viewpoint that shapeshifters were real. It was seven hours shy of three full days when Parker received word on the two brothers. Sam Magnusson was listed in critical condition with a fifty percent chance of living and Dean Magnusson was listed in good condition with an eighty percent chance of driving the nurses on the critical care floor to murder.

_**FIN**_


End file.
